Super cutiehead wee thinker!

Fay, if it were possible I'd be out there in a flash. The Ghost of Christmas Present is perfect for you. And I'd love to see the performance of the twin who said this to the interviewer:

"One of my favourite things of being in the play is that people who hardly know each other have to hug and kiss!," said Alex. "I think people should see this play because we've practised and remembered our lines and are good at it! So, if you miss it you'll be sorry!"

The kid should totally be a professional publicist.

Ooh! Do you get to hide Ignorance and Want under your robes and shame Scrooge with them before you disappear? That was always the saddest and most frightening part of Christmas Carol for me as a kid -- I'd wait for the two little shriveled woes clinging balefully to Santa with bated breath, then when they appeared I'd almost scream and couldn't bear to look.

The kids are very cute, it must be said, and they're doing a cracking job. I'm particularly fond of Olly, the lad playing the Ghost of Christmas Past - he's 11, and a bit loud and full of himself, which is clearly driving Scrooge mad, but he's really quite sweet. (Also, I realised today, we are the same height. I don't tend to think of myself as being short, despite the fact that I'm not quite 5 ft 3. However, he is 11, and we are of a height. Which suggests that maybe I am, in fact, quite short. Huh.)

Alas, I do not get to hide Ignorance and Want under my robes - it's pretty much pared down to be as simple as possible, and then some. (I get to hide my boobies under my robes, though, fwiw!)

I like the Ghost costume lots. The Mrs Fezziwig costume is an eminently appropriate confection in peach, which I would never dream of wearing other than for the role, whereas I crave the Ghost's red velvet coat. Crave it. They'll have to wrench it out of my cold dead hands after the show.

Bless you, JZ - I wish I'd got a teleporter to whizz you over here!

Curse you, match.com! After 7 pages, I had found one "eh" and a whole bunch of "how loudly can I say NO?"s, and there, on the last page, was a hair-dying, goth, agnostic religious studies grad student who mentions Bertrand Russell and the Venture Brothers in his profile. And why is he on the last page? Because he lives an hour and a half away. Curse you, match.com! Curse you to heck!

Also, good almost-still-morning, board!

And now, there are clearly people hunting in my neighborhood. Some days... argh.

eek! be careful, Emily!

Finished my paper. Am now doing extremely boring reading. Then I'll be done and can loll and lounge about.

Go, GC, with your paper-writing self! I have had a couple of those monster papers myself and they are a slog. Happily, this professor likes short (5 pages max, preferably 4.5 pages) and sweet.

So sleepy. This stuff is really making me want to lie down and nap.

I am doing boring reading so I can write a paper. Today I'm going to learn if I can hold baby and type at the same time. That should be fun.

Also, Emily, I have found match.com to be evil. Or something.

Emily- if you meet half way that's only 45 minutes a piece.

signed, The Eternal Optimist

I am also, it transpires, in the Bangkok Post.

Fay, you are so fucking cool. Go you!

The Boy and I had dinner with Liese last night, where there was a fire alarm but (allegedly) no fire. I'm happy to report that none of us burned to death or even got singed a little. (We heard our waiter telling another table a list of all the non-fire things that the fire alarm could mean, and The Boy and Liese observed that he *didn't* mention that it could have, in fact, meant AN ACTUAL FIRE. But we were seated by a window, so we figured if it was a real fire, we could bust out the window and dive outward to safety. I think that The Boy was secretly disappointed that he didn't get to bust out the window.)

A good time was had by all.

Go, Fay!

Also, Go Not Being in a Fire!

I am also, it transpires, in the Bangkok Post.

How cool is that? Super cool. Though now I am troubled that you have labeled your breasts Ignorance and Want.

Matilda woke up in a very cheerful mood, which was very nice because the previous two days she was a tiny Godzillaina, screeching and stomping about wreaking 14 month-old havoc.

There was a dawning moment of, "Oh yeah. The baby who breaks into great smiles and has many ironic eyebrow poses."